


Trouble's Keeper

by Caiti (Caitriona_3)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, F/M, Ladies of Marvel Bingo 2019, MCU Kink Bingo, Marvel Fluff Bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22537231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caitriona_3/pseuds/Caiti
Summary: She shouldn't be falling for her employer . . . that kind of thing never ended well.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow
Comments: 33
Kudos: 195
Collections: Ladies of Marvel Bingo 2019, MCU Kink Bingo Round 4, Marvel Fluff Bingo





	Trouble's Keeper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Liebekatze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liebekatze/gifts).



> Bodyguard AU - Brock/Darcy
> 
> If you'd like to pick something, go see [HERE](https://caitriona-3.tumblr.com/post/190539983617/too-many-bingo-cards). You can make your request in a comment below or hit me up on tumblr.
> 
> Squares filled:
> 
> Marvel Fluff Bingo - N4 - Bodyguard AU  
> MCU Kink Bingo - N1 - Safe, Sane, & Consensual  
> Ladies of Marvel Bingo - O4 - Role Reversal

[ ](https://imgur.com/hqC3uEo)

_Keep the man alive for another few weeks and the tally’s been paid._ That one thought kept Darcy Lewis focused on her work instead of spending most of her time debating whether she wanted shoot her employer herself . . . or talk the man into taking her to bed. _Down, girl._ Why the hell did the man have to be so damn sexy? Good looks, masculine charm, and an alpha personality that pressed all her buttons - he had it all.

Brock Rumlow, the city’s reigning bad boy and head of one of the most powerful Families, hired her to play his girlfriend after someone sent a female assassin to seduce him. Technically speaking, he’d hired her as a bodyguard, but he wanted her to work undercover. _Probably due to some kind of macho pride._ No one expected a woman like Darcy to work security and she’d always used their miscalculations against them. Her record remained spotless and she had a sterling reputation among those in the know.

Tempting as the salary had been, she would never have taken the job, but he’d offered a bargain she simply couldn’t refuse. He’d paid off her parents’ debts and got them out from under their debt to another of the Families. After that, they came to an agreement – she worked for a lower salary than usual while he applied the difference to the debt owed. With a little more bargaining, she also got him to agree to waive any interest. Two years would leave her in the clear, so she took the deal.

Two cracked ribs, innumerable bruises, one bullet wound, and at least three knife scars later, Darcy wondered how the hell the man managed to stay alive long enough to hire her, but finally, the end of the race appeared on the horizon. 

She had six weeks left on her contract.

And so, here she stood, sipping expensive champagne and strolling around a room filled with the rich and famous – or infamous – as her employer talked business with other high-rollers. She had to give him points – reluctantly, perhaps, but nevertheless – for treating Pepper Potts with an equal amount of respect to Nick Fury.

When a warm hand slid around her waist, Darcy put on her best welcoming smile as she met Brock’s dark eyes. “There you are,” she scolded though she'd always had at least one eye on him. “Where have you been?”

“I may need you to shoot someone,” he muttered, giving the appearance of whispering something suggestive in her ear.

She tilted her head, a flirty smile curing her lips while her eyes remained cool and hard. “I’m here to keep you alive, Mr. Rumlow,” Darcy reminded him, her voice low enough not to be heard by anyone else. “That’s my **only** job.” A thread of hot steel lined her voice. “I’m not an assassin or hired gun.”

“Didn’t say I wanted you to kill them, _principessa_.” One corner of his mouth hitched up in a smile though she saw the flash of temper in his eyes. “Just shoot them.”

“Why?”

Lifting a hand, he brushed back a lock of her hair, tucking it behind one ear. “Come and see.”

Pursing her lips, she gave him a quick once over before curling her hand around his offered elbow. “I do hope you’re going to make this worth my while,” she purred. Nearby partygoers sent amused smirks after them, though she noted the handful of disappointed scowls as well. If she could read minds, Darcy would wager they thought the two of them intended to slip off for a little private playtime. 

She could only wish their suspicions had a factual basis.

All of those thoughts fled as Rumlow drew her to an alcove on one of the private floors. Through the small window in the door she could see a ‘playroom’ set up. Darcy knew herself to be a submissive, but she wasn’t into the kind of play implied by the toys she could see; she didn’t do pain. Still, to each their own . . . as long as they kept it safe, sane, and consensual.

Jack Rollins, Brock’s second in command and best friend, lay on the bed, held in place with cuffs and ropes. A tall, blonde woman stood over him, dressed for the game with a riding crop in her hand.

One eyebrow cocked up and Darcy glanced back at Brock. “Are you expecting shock?”

“Look at their eyes.”

Repressed anger reverberated in his dark voice and a second eyebrow joined the first as she turned back to pay more attention to the people, not just the set-up. The woman ran the edge of the handle down the center of Jack’s back, her head turned away for the moment, so Darcy looked at the trussed-up man. Hazy, vague, unfocused . . . whatever the hell you wanted to call it, those green eyes certainly didn’t look expectant, passionate, or actually present in the here and now. 

“Shit.”

The hand on her shoulder tightened as she bit off a curse, but she didn’t pay any attention. Instead, Darcy looked back at the woman with the riding crop as she turned her head. Her hard eyes looked a good deal clearer, at least regarding her surroundings. On the other hand, they held a hint of wildness that made Darcy question her level of sanity . . . or at least her self-control.

“Well, hell, that just screams anti-SSC” she muttered. “I’m going to end up shooting someone – or tase them anyway.” Out of the corner, she sent an admonishing look towards her employer. “And just why haven’t you intervened?”

“She’s got a pair of guards in there,” he replied, his voice still too soft to be heard beyond their little alcove. Despite the situation, Darcy had to force herself to ignore what that voice did to her nerve-endings. “When we go in there, they’ll attack. I needed the back up.”

“You need a damn keeper,” she muttered as she reached through the slit in her skirt to draw her tiny taser.

“That’s your job, _principessa_.”

“Only for six more weeks.”

Brock went still, his hand hot on the bare skin of her back. “So ready to leave?”

“Jack first,” she decided. “Potentially awkward conversation later.”

He gave her a look that told her if there’d been any other choice, they’d have been talking right that moment. “Jack first,” he agreed, “but then we **will** talk.”

Not that she doubted the promise, but Darcy didn’t expect to be hauled into his office as soon as they arrived back to the house with a drugged Jack in tow. Brock arranged for his second-in-command to be settled in his rooms with a nurse present to keep an eye on him. From all reports, he should wake up with one hell of a headache, but other than that, he should be fine. Given the dark look in Brock’s eyes as he sat at his desk, staring at her, she figured she should worry about her own coming morning.

“Planning to leave in six weeks then?”

“As agreed.”

“ _Merda_.” 

“Lightest cursing you’ve ever done,” she noted. When he gave her a dark look, she spread her hands. “What do you want from me? You hired me to be your bodyguard for two years; I’ve done that. Our agreement is up in six weeks.” Folding her arms over her chest, she glared at him. “So what’s your damage?”

Pushing himself to his feet, Brock stalked around the desk, his gaze turning hot and hard as he moved towards her with a panther’s grace. For the first time – possibly ever – Darcy stepped back, a flicker of concern racing through her as she dropped her arms.

And he stopped.

Despite the hunter’s gleam in his eyes, Brock remained still. “I’m not going to hurt you, _principessa_ ,” he murmured.

“Okay.” She drew in a deep breath and stepped forward. When he took another step towards her, she remained still. “What’s going on?”

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe I’d want you to stay?” Lifting a hand, he touched her shoulder before letting his fingers slide down her arm to take her hand. “That I wouldn’t want you to leave?”

“As your bodyguard?”

“Don’t you like guarding my body?” A teasing note entered his voice as he lifted her hand to his lips.

“I don’t like the uneven playing field.” 

**That** wiped the smile from Brock’s face as his hand tightened on hers. “Ah.”

“Yeah,” Darcy nodded. “ _Ah_.” She moistened her lips and then gave a quirky smile as his eyes darkened and focused on the movement. “You’re sexy as hell,” she admitted with a shrug. “I can’t argue that. It doesn’t hurt that you’ve got a code and you treat your people well. I like the discussions we’ve had – literature, movies, even politics.”

“Good to know.”

“And it doesn’t hurt that I know you like what you see.”

A smirk flashed over his face. “Yes, yes I do.”

“But you’re my **employer** ,” she reminded him. “And I don’t play that kind of game.”

“What if I asked you to stay in a different role?” Brock asked, stepping into her personal space. He curled his hands around her elbows as he looked down into her face. “Not as my bodyguard.”

“I’ll need you to be more specific.” Darcy could feel herself responding to his proximity. Oh, she’d like to just throw her rules out the window and surrender, but she knew better. There would be no going blindly into this. Settling for a ‘maybe’ broke her heart once; she wouldn’t do it again. “Are you looking for a short affair? More of a long-term mistress? Or-?”

“Permanent.”

She blinked, falling silent as she felt her eyes go wide in surprise. Her mouth opened a time or two as she tried to find something to say.

“Very permanent,” he continued as he lowered his head. 

He paused; his eyes locked on hers as he gave her the chance to speak. Seeing that courtesy, Darcy shoved her qualms to the side and lifted her chin to brush her mouth over his. Before she could pull back, his lips captured hers in a sweet, intoxicating kiss. It stayed soft for maybe the space of a breath or two, but then he pulled her closer. Deep and hungry, his mouth moved over hers with a thoroughness that spoke of passion and intent kept carefully leashed.

As his lips skimmed her jawline before tracing down her throat, she worked hard to draw her scattered thoughts together. “We’ll . . . we’ll need to talk,” she muttered. “Set some rules.”

“Definitely.” 

Now his tongue traced over her pulse point and she almost lost her train of thought again. “Yeah, because-.”

When he bit down, gentle as the nip might be, she felt her knees go shaky. She couldn’t name the noise that came out of her throat, something half squeak, half moan, but she could feel the smile he gave. “Such a lovely little sound,” he murmured. “Will you make it again?”

“Brock,” she breathed.

“That’s even better.”

“I’m serious.”

He lifted his head to meet her eyes. “I know.” Lifting his hands, he framed her face between them. “And I promise you, Darcy, we’re not going any further than a few kisses or touches until we’ve got those rules. My word on that.”

One thing she’d learned, above everything else, his word meant something to him; when he gave his word, he set it in stone. “I’m not into pain.”

“Not into giving it.”

“I still work for you,” she reminded him. “For another six weeks.”

The wicked smirk he gave caused a low burn of heat to roll through her. “If it makes you feel better, I could always fire you tonight.”

“Like hell you will.” One finger drilled into his chest. “I’ve got a damn good rep - and professional rules.”

“Maybe I could make you bend some of those rules, hmm?”

“Maybe.” Now her lips curved into a mischievous smirk. “Care to seal it with a kiss?”

“For now,” he agreed. Tilting his head down, his mouth hovered over hers as he smiled into her eyes. “At least until I find the right ring.”

Her thoughts scattered again, but this time Darcy let them go as his lips settled on hers, this time in a searing, demanding kiss – one she surrendered to as she raised her hands to circle the nape of his neck. _Oh, to hell with it._

Sometimes rules were made to be broken.


End file.
